the accursed
by wild wolf free17
Summary: Any step of the way, he could have stopped his brother. From the evidence, spread over years and a continent, he never even thought about it. Dark!AU
1. Clytemnestra’s Children

**Title**: Clytemnestra's Children

**Disclaimer**: not my characters

**Warnings**: AU

**Pairings**: pre-Dean/Sam

**Rating**: R

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Wordcount**: 305

**Notes**: title is a reference to Greek mythology

**Prompt**: Sam/Dean, if it'll make you stay

* * *

Dean knows it's wrong. Sam doesn't seem to understand, too excited and curious, but Dean knows. He could stop it—he knows that, too.

But he's not entirely sure Sam would choose him, so he never makes that demand.

He's in this too deep now, anyway. He's spent his whole life watching out for his little brother, keeping Sam safe. He had his chance when he was thirteen, when he made his first kill.

"Dean!" Sam calls from the den. "Come see this."

He looks the woman right in the eye, bringing the knife up to her shoulder. "I realize this is frightening," he tells her gently. "But running or screaming won't help you." He flicks a glance to her kids, both daughters, somewhere between twenty and fifteen. "Or them."

He's learned that when you're calm enough, cold enough, threats work just as well as actual violence. He's so experienced now he rarely has to restrain anyone; they do it themselves because they believe him.

There are tears in her eyes. He smiles and goes to the den.

Once, he'd have been horrified. He remembers the first time Sam showed him a body, what his anger had wrought and his curiosity ensured kept happening.

He doesn't enjoy the kill, not like Sam. He doesn't enjoy taking people apart just to see how they work or making them bleed out to see how they die.

But he needs Sam. And if Sam needs him to kill, then he'll do it.

"Look at him," Sam says, grinning up at Dean. "He's not even afraid."

Dean crouches down beside his brother.

He could have stopped this. He knows that. It's sick and wrong, and something must not be wired right in either of their heads.

But if Sam will just keep smiling like that, Dean doesn't care.


	2. Sons of Atreus

**Title**: Sons of Atreus

**Disclaimer**: not my characters; just for fun.

**Warnings**: AU; twistedness; disturbing

**Pairings**: implied wincest

**Rating**: Rish

**Wordcount**: 915

**Point** **of** **view**: third

**Dedication**: for vorpalblades, on account of her birthday

**Notes**: title is a reference to Greek mythology. Look it up. It's not a happy story.

* * *

The first was an accident. All the rest… weren't.

o0o

They're kept on opposite sides of the prison, one always in solitary. No other penitentiary in the country will accept either of them, no matter how the DA pleads.

They see one another in the halls, sometimes, as they're moved around the prison. They exchange smiles and the guards eye them warily. They are never allowed to speak to each other.

In a building full of America's most dangerous men, the Winchester brothers are in a class all their own, and that terrifies the warden.

o0o

Dean killed his first human when he was thirteen. It was the father of a little girl down the street from them. The poor bastard walked in on Sam carving up his daughter and Sam wasn't strong enough to deal with an adult, not yet.

Dean was. Without a heartbeat of hesitation, he did.

o0o

They should have gotten the death penalty. Everyone knows it. But Sam gave the jury his puppy eyes and Dean flashed them his little-boy-ain't-I-just-_adorable_ grin.

Life in prison. No possibilty of parole. No hope of ever setting foot outside the facility again. Forbidden from ever sharing even a single word with each other.

o0o

Sam was playing with a boy from down the block. They were wrestling. Sam was six. He tackled the boy and they went down hard. The kid's head cracked against the ground. He died instantly.

Sam stared at the body. Fell in love with death. Became _fascinated_. He had to tell Dean.

Dean was horrified, but he'd never been able to deny Sammy a thing.

o0o

Dean is loud and brash when he's out of the hole. He picks fights, but so cleverly that he's never held responsible. The gangs avoid him whenever possible and the guards fear him, never meeting his eyes.

He has a bed and a roof over his head, warm food and plenty of it. But he's still reeling because Sam's out of sight and out of reach. He can't protect Sam here.

o0o

Sam used his guileless eyes to con his way into houses. Dean followed in his wake, closing off all escape routes, standing watch. They killed indiscriminately because Sam loved seeing how different people died.

They worked their way up the West Coast, along Canada's border, down the East Coast, and were caught in Oklahoma as they headed inwards for the heart of the country.

Neither of them testified against the other, and neither of them admitted to being guilty.

o0o

Sam is quiet and brooding when he is out of solitary. He ignores everyone and they leave him alone.

His silence frightens people more than Dean's boisterousness ever could. His silence seems contemplative.

Anybody looking can see he's planning something.

o0o

Sam was the mastermind. But Dean was just as guilty. Any step of the way, he could have stopped his brother.

From the evidence, spread over years and a continent, he never even thought about it.

o0o

At lunch one day, a large biker approaches Dean. Leans close and propositions him in a whisper. Dean laughs and turns back to his food. The biker backs off.

At work-out time, the biker returns. He's taller than Dean, outweighs him by a good fifty pounds.

The biker is new. Dean's only been in gen-pop for a few hours, and this is the biker's first day. The biker doesn't know to fear the name Winchester.

Dean breaks the biker's head on a barbell and smiles.

o0o

People ask what kind of man could have raised the Winchesters. What horrible agonies he must have inflicted on them as children.

Truth is, he was a good man. He just never was the same after his wife died in a fire, when Sam was only six months old. John lost his mind that night, saw things that couldn't have been there, and took up drinking to dull his despair.

He wrapped his Impala around a pole when Dean was eight. The system took them in.

Dean took them out of the system when he was fifteen.

o0o

A rookie guard escorts Dean back to solitary and puts him in the cell next to Sam.

o0o

Azazel watched in wonder and fascination as Sam fell into the darkness with glee. He considered killing the brother, just to erase any trace left of the light.

When he saw Dean snap a wailing baby's neck because the creature was distracting Sam, he realized there was no need.

Any light in Dean was long covered over by his darling brother's darkness.

o0o

They sit back to back, through the concrete. They sense each other. Always have.

_Time? _Dean asks.

_Not yet_, Sam responds. _I want to see how a convicted murderer dies_.

_Got a target?_

He feels Sam's satisfaction. _The perfect one_.

o0o

Their capture and arrest caught the imagination of everyone. They were sought after for interviews. They never gave any. Their pasts were dug into, childhood grades and bruises, records for hospital visits. The system had not been kind to them.

No excuse, though. That, everyone agreed on. No excuse at all, not for what they did.

o0o

Dean is let of solitary the next day. He presses a kiss to the wall before going. The guard sneers in disgust, but wilts before his stare.

At lunch, Dean sits next to Sam's target.

o0o

The Winchesters are gone by sunrise. The body is found at noon.

Convicted murderers, as it turns out, die the same as everyone else, and Sam still needs more things to kill.


End file.
